Ian Martin designs a luxury graffiti and urban skills pavilion in Brighton
MONDAY I’ve been whacking out some utterly bonkers envisionments for my bumbling homie Loaf, mayor of London.
He wants to create a ‘Bi-Line’ across London, a segregated cycleway free from the hazards of hat-wearing motorists and the unions. My ideas so far:
- Elevated ‘moral high ground’ section over Labour boroughs.
- Business class lane offering premier access via executive gateways, uniformed bicycle minders and filtered air, oxygenated with notes of damask and chlorophyll.
- Ignorable red traffic lights at regular intervals.
- Every square inch of PFI tarmac slathered with smug bicycle-themed corporate bullshit glorifying the worst bastards on Earth.
- Design competition for a 21st-century linear cycling environment. Then after a while a diverse shortlist featuring reclaimed Victorian brickwork, abstract fencing and assorted bollocks on stilts. Then after a while a controversial winner. Then faffing about long enough for it to become someone else’s problem and making do with existing de-pedestrianised surfaces. Then eventually Loaf on the news, quoting Ovid and reluctantly standing for party leader.
TUESDAY Phone call from Loaf. He loves my Bi-Line conceptuals. As usual, he drifts into Latin.
I’m pretty rusty these days. Something about him being Achilles and David Cameron being Hector? And Hector’s slain and his body’s being dragged behind a Boris Bike round and round Westminster Square? Is that right?
Loaf cackles in Latin. And they say it’s a dead language.
WEDNESDAY Designing a luxury graffiti and urban skills pavilion in Brighton.
It will allow middle-class children to get involved in a ‘street scene’ that’s vibrant, aspirational and doesn’t smell of piss. My client, an entrepreneur specialising in youth leisure, reckons parents will pay a fortune to park their teenagers in an urban environment secured with adequate levels of insurance. Only improving hip-hop will occur in the supervised stencil masterclasses. Beatboxing workshops will teach youngsters how to make a real difference with socially responsible saliva. In line with local council requirements there will be ample jamming provision and a counselling service.
THURSDAY To a desert far, far away with my old friend Dusty Penhaligon the conservactionist. He’s helping with the restoration of a classic science fiction building - the K’buum el-K’buum Residuals Farm from Star Clash Episode Four: The Beginning Again.
I’m tagging along as his plus one, making notes and sketching enigmatic little asides in my Overseas Moleskine.
In the fictional universe, the K’buum el-K’buum Residuals Farm exists on the planet Apostro V. It’s where the character of Mark Staremaster (who becomes the leader of the Rebel Coalition that defeats the Royal Clone Army and saves the galaxy from voice-synthesised fascism and then does it again in the sequel) was born. In reality, the badly deteriorating building is in a remote area of Tunisia where the climate is harsh and it’s almost impossible to get planning permission.
Dusty’s an expert witness for Omniversal Pictures, who want to make a pre-sequel prequel to the last sequel called Return Of The CGI. A grizzled Mark Staremaster will return to his home planet to squint mournfully at K’buum el-K’buum Residuals Farm and wonder where the last 30 years went.
It needs to be redone from scratch. Omniversal’s problem is that Tunisia (Desert) Planning Authority have declared the site a historic ruin. Now nobody can touch it. Dusty’s job is to convince them that a reconstructed residuals farm will generate more tourism revenue and be ‘more historic’.
But they stand firm. How can something rebuilt now be older than something built 30 years ago? Dusty’s logic is impeccable. If he rebuilds this year and the movie is a pre-sequel prequel to the last sequel, it would have to be 58,377 years old to align narratively with the Star Clash story, whereas the one built 30 years ago is only 58,336 years old according to the official fan site. The Tunisian planners all get headaches at the same time and give in.
FRIDAY In the morning, design a ‘post-riot Hackney fashion hub’. In the afternoon, design a ‘pre-revolution Whitechapel media vortex’. Exciting times. That’s one thing we do have plenty of in this age of austerity. Nouns.
SATURDAY Five-a-zeitgeist theoretical football. Elongated Voidism 3, Compressed Absence 1. Compressed Absence wins on aggregate as it’s worth more per square metre.
SUNDAY Me-space downtime in the recliner. Reflect on the starry blackness of infinity, then nod off.